The Roots of Violence
by D. M. Evans
Summary: As one young boy tries to escape the ugly home life he faces, violence follows him as does a mysterious man with a peculiar name.
1. Chapter 1

Roots of Violence

Shades of Grey series: Shade - Smoke

D M Evans

Disclaimer - not mine, all characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al and funimition, Square Enix and probably other people I'm leaving out.

Rating - FRM (for violence and sexual suggestion)

Pairing - None

Time Line - Oh this would be way before the events of the anime and/or manga and really this whole Shades of Grey series is my own little alternative reality and all the background details for Roy Mustang here are totally made up (give me a mysterious background and I can't help but fill it up). We know next to nothing about his life before the military and unlike Armstrong, he never talks about his family so I had to wonder why. And just how did he become friends with Hohenheim?

Summary - As one young boy tries to escape the ugly home life he faces, violence follows him as does a mysterious man with a peculiar name.

Author's Note - This is the first story in the series for the shades of grey challenge at colorific. All the stories in this series will be in the same alternative reality. Thanks to SJ for the beta.

Author's Note - Warning, there are intent-to-rape scenes, but nothing too horribly graphic (or over the R rating) but the intent is perfectly clear. For those who like to know, this story is complete in three chapters

CHAPTER ONE

_This couldn't last forever_, he told himself, gingerly sitting down on the window box seat. His backside hurt but not as bad as his shoulders. At least they had finally stopped bleeding. He wasn't crying in spite of the pain. No, that wouldn't happen. If he saw tears, Dad would beat him worse, teach him to be a real man.

He looked out the window at the run down industrial town he called home. There had to be better life outside of Satie where half the factories were out of business. Even if he lived long enough, Roy had no plans of ever staying in this place, working in a paper mill with the reek of it in his nose until the mill broke him like it had his father.

Of course, it was possible his father started out broken, in soul if not body. Roy knew his dad had been hurt at the mill years ago but he wasn't sure the hulking monster of his nightmares had been hurt anywhere near as bad as he pretended. He simply took the money the mill had offered him. When he started squandering it, Roy's mother - whom he resembled so closely that he had to endure his father's daily teasing about his girlie face - had complained a bit too much about her husband's spendthrift ways.

Roy remembered that beating like it was yesterday. Mom had stopped moving when her head hit the hearth. Father had left him there to scrub the blood from the stone while he took Roy's mother to the doctors. He never saw his mother again. Roy didn't need to be told what had happened and fear kept his mouth well and truly shut.

Usually Roy made a point of not being around in the afternoon. Dad worked at The Pit now, a scary little bar near the mill, pouring drinks and tossing out rowdies, taking his pay half in beer most nights, so in the evening the house was silent, almost safe. Mornings were sleeping time but afternoons were dangerous. His father lurked around the house like some boogeyman from the old stories his mother used to tell him.

This afternoon, he had made the mistake of losing himself in his reading. Mother had wanted him to have an education, to get him out of this place. That ended when she did. That didn't mean that his desire for learning had disappeared. It grew like fire fed with old wood, consuming all. The easiest way to feed the blaze was to go to Old Man Ravensdale. As much as Roy liked the blind alchemist, his father hated him, called him a freak, forbade Roy to go to the man's house. Roy went anyway, always coming away with another book from Mr. Ravensdale's library. The alchemist was thrilled to have someone who cared about the books around and now Roy would have to tell him that the latest book had ended up in the fireplace. He shook just thinking about it.

"Boy, get down here!"

Roy bit his lip against the pain as he got up but he didn't dally. Just a few more hours and his father would go to work and he'd have peace. He tried not to limp as he went down the creaking stairs. The boards felt mushy under his feet, as if the old house would just give up at any moment even under his slight weight. That was probably why his father had made a downstairs room his bedroom, no stairs and he could hear every move his son made. Whenever his father was home, Roy couldn't escape the feeling the man knew everything he did, like a spider knows when something touches its web. "Yes, Father?" he asked, not surprised to find his father collapsed in a chair, still stinking of last night's alcohol and days of no washing. His thinning, reddish blond hair lay lank over his head, giving him a greasy look that sickened Roy.

Jarrad Mustang barely looked up from the radio he was fiddling with, trying in vain to get something more than static. He took a drag on the cigarette he held between thick fingers. "Any reason dinner isn't started yet?"

Roy knew better than to say 'because you hit me so hard this afternoon it took until now for me to get up off the floor.' "There's stew left. I'll put it on. It always tastes better when it's sat a few days anyhow."

Jarrad snorted, smoke bubbling past his hammy lips. "You don't just look like a girl, you talk like one. Get my dinner on the table soon."

Roy ignored the insult, like he always did, and dragged into the kitchen. Lifting the heavy cast iron skillet onto the stove was hard with the way his welted shoulders burned but he managed it. He opened the door to the stove and added more lumps of coal to the cinders left over from earlier in the day then put in some dry kindling to make sure the stove would catch. It was slow, filling the kitchen with smoke. Peering into the living room, he could see his father was in no mood to get up and see what was wrong. Roy started to draw the array he had seen in one of Ravensdale's books, one he had practiced with before but he heard his father finally stirring so he dropped the lump of coal, wiped off the half-done array before his father saw it and wondered what it was, and went to wash his hands.

Water trickled out of the spigot, like ice licking up his hands. It would freeze up again tonight and in the morning he'd have to crawl under the house to unfreeze the pipes. He drew a preventive bucket of water now so he'd have something to heat come morning. Roy managed to get the stew on the table without his father coming in to hurry him along with a boot to his back side.

"You going to find something more useful to do with yourself than read tonight, boy?" Jarrad asked, in one of his infrequent pauses in ladling stew into his mouth.

Roy just nodded, even though he had no such plans. "Is there something you want me to do, Father?"

Jarrad's watery blue eyes flicked up and Roy wasn't sure what he had done to irritate the man but he had obviously done it. "Try not to be so mealy mouthed when you ask for chores for one, you little pantywaist."

Roy dropped his gaze, wondering for just a moment what he might be able to do to his father if he could get those arrays from Ravensdale's books to work right. They weren't hard to understand. He just didn't have any time or place to practice.

"Go get us some food. Everything should be marked down by now." Jarrad swung his bulk away from the table.

"But I don't have any money." That came out more like a whine than Roy meant it to and he paid for it. He caught the blow across his mouth squarely. Ducking only made his father angrier. Besides, he knew the blow wouldn't be really hard, not if his father meant for him to go into town. He rarely marked up Roy's face

"Gonna cry, milksop?" His father leered at him, waiting, hoping. He grunted when his son disappointed him then tossed some money on the table. "Look for some pastries while you're at it. You can't bake worth shit and my sweet tooth's acting up."

"Yes, sir." Roy gathered the money up then started putting the dishes in the sink.

"Do that later." Jarrad cuffed him lazily on the back of the head. "Get to market before everything closes up. I'll be at work by the time you get home."

Roy nodded but still paused long enough to put some water at the bottom of the stew pan to loosen it up for easier cleaning later. He lit out of the house as quickly as he could. He'd get to market then stop by Ravensdale's home to confess to losing the book he had borrowed. He hated going to the market so late in the day but his father refused to pay full price for anything. Maybe they really couldn't afford to. Looking at their ramshackle house, that was believable. Day old bread, some wilted vegetables and the less choice cuts of meat made up the haul he stuffed into the basket of his rusty bicycle. He remembered to stop for some pastries. He got his father some pecan sticky buns and spent a little time eyeing the leftover sour cherry strudel that he didn't have money for but really wanted. Mrs. Silverton let him have it for free.

Driving one handed while stuffing himself with slightly stale strudel, Roy headed for Ravensdale's home on the opposite end of town. The house was neatly kept and brightly painted. His daughter, Jenna, an herbalist, lived with him and the fragrant gardens that surrounded the place in the summer were surely her work. At the moment there wasn't much left to them, thanks to the frost.

Roy hoped she wasn't home. He liked Jenna a lot. She was very kind but she always wanted to know how he hurt himself. He would lie. She wouldn't believe him but what was there to do about it? She'd tell him it wasn't okay for his father to hit him or anyone and he'd remind her that the man running the sheriff's office in Satie drank every night at the bar his father worked at. There was no help for him here. He just needed to keep his head down and leave town when he was older. Like many boys from this place, he saw escape in the blue uniform of the military. They would take him in even if he didn't have much of an education or any skills beyond what he taught himself from Ravensdale's books. But he was only twelve and escape would have to wait.

He took the groceries to the deep blue door of Ravensdale's home and knocked. After all, leaving them in the basket would only invite theft by people or dogs. Of the two, he liked dogs better. He tried not to frown when Jenna opened the door. She had her long red hair pulled back and her hands were stained purple. "Hi, Miss Ravensdale, been working in the garden again?" He nodded at her hands. Maybe she had something that liked to grow in the winter, like pine trees or holly.

She laughed. "Been extracting dyes for Mrs. Payne. She's promised me a nice sweater. With as cold as its getting, I hope she hurries." Jenna eyed his ill-fitting clothing critically. "I should probably have her knit something for you, too."

"I couldn't afford it," he mumbled uncomfortably. He did the best he could with cutting down his much larger father's old clothing but it wasn't very good.

"Don't argue with a gift, Roy." She smiled warmly and he knew she meant well. She didn't understand that his father would see the new garment, wonder where it came from and take her generosity as a slight. "Come along, let's put the groceries in the ice chest."

He followed her meekly, his shoulders throbbing now from carrying a load. He couldn't help limping a little. Sh e gave him a sharp look then took the bag from him and put it away. She picked up a cup. "Father's taking tea in the library. You could use some. You look cold."

He grinned at her. Cookies usually went with tea in this house. "Thank you, Miss Ravensdale."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Jenna?" She smiled as she steered him towards the library. She walked behind him and he knew she was testing to see how much he might be hurt.

"Sorry, ma'am."

"That's worse. It makes me sound old."

Roy looked at her. She was old, almost thirty, even if the pony tail made her look younger. He hesitated in the library doorway. Old man Ravensdale wasn't alone. Ravensdale was probably five years older than Roy's dad, which meant he was nearly ancient and he had the same red hair as his daughter. His face bore deep scars. He had told Roy that part of his alembic distillation array had blown up in his face, costing him his sight. Roy hadn't wanted to ask about those scars and was never sure if Ravensdale had told him because he was used to people staring and asking or because Roy had started reading the basic alchemic journals and felt the boy needed a warning about the dangers in alchemy.

The man with Ravensdale was a total stranger. At least several years older than Roy, the man had his dark blond hair pulled into a tail and round glasses perched on his nose. He looked owlishly at Roy through them. His face was open and friendly.

"Roy's here, Father," Jenna said.

"And not moving very well, so my ears tell me. Come in, son." Ravensdale waved Roy in. "Have a seat. We were about to have tea."

"Thanks, sir. Jenna brought me a cup." Roy shuffled over to a chair and winced as he eased himself into it. His back side was really hurting now from all the bike peddling.

"It's one of her special blends, something new."

"I just added some dried peaches and ginger. I hope it's good," she said, pouring for everyone. "And I saw that, Roy. You can hardly move."

Roy grimaced, ashamed he didn't hide it better. "I'm fine, really."

"I find that doubtful, boy," Ravensdale said, gently. "But you probably don't want to talk about this in front of guests. This is Hohenheim Elric from Rezembool. He's another alchemist, here about my old research." He waved a hand at the stranger.

Roy wrinkled his name. _What kind of name was Hohenheim? _"Hello, sir."

"This fine young man is Roy Mustang. I can barely keep him in books." Ravensdale laughed.

"Nice to meet you, Roy." Hohenheim smiled and the smile went all the way to his bright eyes. Roy wasn't used to friendly people and it made him uncomfortable. Father's friends weren't nice but at least it was familiar.

"And let's have a look at the damage this time, Roy. I'll go get my kit," Jenna said.

"I really am fine and Mr. Ravensdale, sir, I'm sorry. I lost your book. I didn't mean to," Roy said, his lower lip trembling.

"You mean your father took it," Ravensdale said, sadly.

"I lost it," Roy repeated stubbornly, not about to talk about this in front of a stranger.

Ravensdale sighed, sipping his tea. "Is it retrievable at all?"

Roy shook his head then remembered the man couldn't see that. "No, sir. I'm sorry."

"Well, I know it's not your fault, boy." Ravensdale held up a hand. "You take excellent care of my books. He particularly likes the alchemy ones, Hohenheim."

"Really?" Hohenheim's eyes glittered, interest apparent in them.

Ravensdale rubbed his chin. "He devours them."

"Have a cookie, Roy," Jenna interrupted, indicating the plate of them as she dumped cubes of sugar into the tea cups. "They're the clotted cream butter cookies you like. I put some lilac I dried this spring into them as a special treat."

Roy reached for a cookie and she whipped around, catching the hem of his shirt. She had it up over his head before he could even pull away. She hissed, seeing the bruised and abraded flesh of his back. "I fell off my bike!"

"I know the difference between that and belt marks, Roy. Come along, go to my workshop. Here you go, Father." She put the tea cup and saucer in his hands. "Hohenheim, you can help yourself."

Roy shambled off to her workshop. There was no arguing with Jenna. She was the most headstrong woman he had ever known but he liked that she didn't let him get away with things while not being mean about it. It was like having an older sister. He held his shirt as he sat on a stool. Wordlessly, Jenna got down one of her salves and some cloth bandages.

"This is really bad this time, Roy. It might take more than marigold and comfrey to fix you up," she said, smearing his sore back with said mixture. The herbs both stung and cooled his flesh. Goose pimples popped up all over him. "You come back here every day so I can check for infection. You probably should go to the hospital."

"No, I'm fine," he said hurriedly. "I'll come back and you can take care of me."

"Lift your arms." As he did, she started winding the dressing around him. "Do I need to remind you what you need to do?"

"Sheriff Williams doesn't care and you know it. He's as bad as Father," Roy replied, bitterly. His eyes stung with unwanted tears he refused to shed. "No one cares."

"I do." She dropped a kiss on his crown. "You're a good kid, Roy, never forget that."

He smiled at her and pulled his shirt on. "Thanks."

"Go on, go get your tea and cookies. I'll be in as soon as I wash up." She handed him a small jar of salve. "For other places, you can do it yourself." She knew from experience that Roy wouldn't take down his pants and let the herbalist treat him.

Roy pocketed it and headed back to the library. He paused outside the door, hearing his name mentioned. He knew eavesdropping was bad but he couldn't help himself.

"Does he really understand the alchemy books, Forrest?" Hohenheim was asking.

"All too well. He's got a sharp mind when his father isn't busy wasting it, too sharp for this town. We talk about the books but there's only so much I can do. I can't see what Roy's up to but I suspect he's experimenting on his own."

"That could get him in trouble." Hohenheim sounded disapproving.

Ravensdale knew about that? Roy was shocked. He thought no one knew he tried what he saw in the books.

"I know. I've been thinking about finding a real teacher for him. I don't think his father would put much into finding him if Roy just ran off. I have more than enough money to pay for his education," Ravensdale said.

Roy's mouth dropped. The old man had never told him this before. Who was this stranger that the alchemist would confide so much in him? Did he really mean so much to Ravensdale that the man would be willing to spend money on him and help him escape? Maybe he had fallen asleep over his tea and this was all a dream.

"I can help you with that, Forrest. I know several teachers who might be willing to take on someone new," Hohenheim replied.

"Thank you. I'm just glad I'm here and the boy trusts me. I'm pretty sure Jenna and I are the only ones looking out for him and to think we almost left. I dread to think what would have happened to such a promising young man otherwise."

"I didn't know you thought about leaving Satie, Forrest."

Neither had Roy. Ravensdale was right; he was the only one who gave a damn about him. Roy's heart thundered, terrified the only people in his life that made it bearable might move.

"Satie was dying and the only reason I stayed was that it was my home. But we have a new alderman and she's sharp. She realized that Satie's factories weren't its only resource. We've gotten a real reputation as an artist town with the dyes, weaving and pottery and now she's trying to lure an automobile manufacturer into town to take advantage of those old mills. Satie is starting to come alive again, so I guess we're staying. I'd hate to move all these books anyhow." Ravensdale laughed.

Roy started breathing again. He heard the angry tap of a foot behind him and he looked over his shoulder. Jenna was there, arms crossed over her chest. He flushed and flashed her a smile. "Sorry."

"Listening at keyholes is bad for you," she said and shooed him inside.

Roy took his tea - which was delicious - and his cookies - even more delicious - and sat quietly listening to the adults talking. He was acutely aware that Hohenheim kept staring at him like he was a cool, new bug the way Roy used to with his friends back when he was still in school when his mom was alive.

"Roy, it's getting late and the temperature is dropping. I can feel it," Ravensdale said. "You should be getting home and Hohenheim and I have to talk about some parts of my research that will probably just bore you."

Roy nodded. "Thanks for the tea and cookies. I'm sorry about the book."

"It's all right. Find yourself another one and I trust you'll find yourself a better place to study it," Ravensdale said.

Roy's eyes widened. "You'll let me have another?"

"Of course. I know it wasn't your fault, Roy. Help yourself." Ravensdale waved at the book cases that lined the walls. "I worry about you being all alone in that house at night. At least you should have something to keep you company, even if it is a book."

"I don't mind being alone, sir. It's peaceful," Roy said honestly, popping up to peruse the shelves.

Hohenheim got up and scanned the books as well. He plucked down a fat volume by someone called the Stormcalled Alchemist. "Here. I found this one very helpful when I was first studying alchemy. Have you read it?"

Roy shook his head and took the heavy book. "Thanks. I'll be back tomorrow, sir, unless you're busy," he added to Ravensdale.

"By all means, stop by. I'm sure Jenna will be much happier that way. She'll fret otherwise." Ravensdale's scarred face broke into a smile.

"Come on, Roy, I'll help you get the groceries back to your bike." Jenna put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks. It was nice meeting you, sir," Roy said, glancing back at Hohenheim.

"I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow," the man replied.

Once Roy got home and got the groceries into the ice chest, he checked to be sure there was ice. He filled some of the forms with water and put them outside to freeze overnight. He whipped through the dishes and hurried upstairs to his room. He put wood in the jagged opening of his fireplace. He hadn't even known there was one in the room, not for years. The former owners of the house had wattle and daubed over the opening for some reason and Roy had depended on the little vent that led into the kitchen over the stove for his heat. Two years ago his father had slammed him so hard into the wattle and daub that Roy had gone through the sticks and mud, revealing the old fireplace.

In the ashes of the previous fire, Roy sketched an array. He flicked on a lighter he had purloined from his father as he put his hand in the array. He grinned as he concentrated and the wood burst into flames. He was getting good with making fire. Dusting off his hands, he got into his threadbare nightclothes, keeping on his socks, and crawled under the thin covers with the book Hohenheim had found for him. He lost himself in the pages of alchemic theory.


	2. Sold

Chapter Two

As he walked toward the garbage bin, Roy was mobbed by the stray cats who knew he was a soft touch when it came to table scraps. He let them have the stewing chicken's skin and bones and some of the meat he knew he couldn't do much with. He had turned the wilted vegetables and the stewing chicken into stock for 'lost bread' soup so he could use up the really old bread and cheese. He had pigged out on that because the rest of the meal wasn't to his taste. His dad liked boiled chicken, grey, lifeless and it sickened Roy.

His father wouldn't allowed for 'fancy' foods, which in his rants were alternately queer or belonged to the rich milquetoasts. Either way, it was bad. Reminding his father that Mom had made roasted chickens and tossed in some herbs didn't impress the man. The one time Roy had tried to make one of the herb-rich dishes that Jenna had taught him, his father lit into him so badly he couldn't really sit for days. He could remember his father screaming that if he wanted to act like a girl he'd be sure to find someone to use him like one. At the time, it meant nothing. Now, being older, when he thought about it his skin crawled, knowing what his father meant. So food with taste had to wait for the times he could make it to the Ravensdale home. There, Jenna would feed him. She worried about him being too skinny.

When he had been smart enough to make up an excuse to go into town to arrange for another coal shipment, Roy had stopped at the Ravensdales' household. The alchemist was embroiled in his discussion with Hohenheim and didn't have time for Roy. Jenna, on the other hand, had stuffed him with roast beef sandwiches in a spicy gravy so he hadn't worried about missing the planned boiled chicken dinner at all. The cats could gladly have his portion. She'd fixed up his back then put him to work helping her with dyes. He had been bored with mordants and what flowers colored things what hue and as far as Roy had been concerned, it smelled worse than the paper mill. He had thought she was kidding about paying him to add to the pot that held the urine mordant and only managed to blush when he had found out she was serious. But at the end, she'd put coins in his hand and told him to tell his father Mrs. Wilson had hired him for a little day work at her pottery shop. The Wilsons were okay with Father and Jenna and Mrs. Wilson had arranged long ago for Roy to use her name whenever he stayed too long at the Ravensdales.

Going back inside the kitchen, Roy blew on his redden fingers. The night was bitterly cold. Walking into the living room he was surprised to see his father still in his chair, a bottle of beer in hand.

Jarrad pushed a lock of lank strawberry blonde hair out of his eyes. "What are you looking at?"

Roy didn't want to say anything but silence would have consequences. "I thought you'd be at work, sir."

"What do you care? Wanna read some more? You get yourself a new book?" His father leered at him, his lips twisting up his ruddy face in a frightening smile.

"No, sir." Roy swallowed hard.

"Liar." Jarrad swilled some beer, shifting his bulk around. "But since there's someone I want you to meet, I'll tell you. I switched nights with Thom because this is the only night Seth can come see you, so get those dishes done. No one wants to wait on you."

Nervous fingers tickled up Roy's back, his skin tightening. "Why would anyone want to meet me?"

Jarrad shifted his bulk as if to get up and come after Roy. The boy took two steps back. "Just shut your trap and get your chores done."

Roy didn't argue. He was just finishing up the dishes when he heard someone come in and his father hollered for him. Roy edged into the living room. None of Father's friends were people he wanted to know and this man as no exception. The man wasn't very big, not like father, whip thin with close cropped brown hair. He was cleaner than Father's friends usually were. The hardness in the eyes was familiar, though. Those snaky eyes studied him and a hint of a frightening smile creased the corners of the man's mouth.

"He's just like you said he was," the man said, an avaricious glint in his eyes.

"Told you, Seth. Get over here, Roy." His father jerked a hand at him. Roy didn't want to come any closer but he knew that wasn't a choice. When he didn't move fast enough, his father got up and dragged him over. He kept a ham-fist on Roy's shoulder.

"Easy on the merchandise, Jarrad," Seth said, then cupped Roy's chin. His hand was soft and uncalloused, not really like anyone's hand Roy had ever known. Fear tickled through the boy. "He's beautiful. I'll gladly pay the price I offered at the Pit."

Roy's stomach clenched. Pay? What had his father gotten him into? The mercenary glint in his father's watery eyes made everything inside Roy feel like it had turned to icy liquid. "Father?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"Maybe he's worth more," Jarrad said, his dirty-nailed fingers tightening on Roy's shoulder.

Seth rolled his shoulders, turning Roy's head to one side then another, his grip so tight now Roy thought it would snap his jaw off. "Maybe."

"And I want a percentage," Jarrad said, smelling blood in the water. Roy started shaking, realizing his father meant to give him to this man for money.

Seth's snaky eyes narrowed. "That's not usual."

"I'm not greedy, ten percent of whatever you earn off of him," Jarrad said, the greed so apparent in his eyes that it put an instant lie to his words. Roy felt sickened.

"Done. He's untouched?" Seth moved his hand from Roy's chin to his shoulder as Jarrad backed off.

"As far as I know. Little boys don't do anything for me. I like a woman with some meat on her bones. Who knows what that alchemy freak Ravensdale has done with him." Jarrad shrugged, sending up a wave of stale body odor.

"Mr. Ravensdale would never hurt me!" Roy screamed, trying to pull away from the horrible man holding him.

"He's got a mouth on him," Jarrad said, his bulk rippling as he laughed sharply.

Seth ran a hand over Roy's lips. "And a pretty one it is. We'll put it to good use."

"Leave me alone," Roy said, tears of fear weeping from the corners of his eyes. He tried to swing on the man but Seth caught his wrist and whipped him over the arm of the couch.

Before Roy knew what was happening, that soft hand was inside his pants, fondling him, invading him. Trying to arch away, he screamed in pain and rage. Seth laughed. "Oh yes, someone will pay well to be the first here." The hand moved, caressing Roy's bruised backside and he thrashed but couldn't free himself from where he was bent over the arm of the couch.

"Good to know." Jarrad smirked. "At least he'll finally be worth something."

"No one cares how much of a virgin his mouth is. Mind if I take him for a test run?" Seth laughed harshly, running a hand through Roy's hair.

"Whatever." Jarrad waved a languid hand at the flesh peddler. "I'll be in the kitchen having a beer."

Roy shook hard, unable to believe his father truly hated him this much. He reached a hand out to him. "Please, Father."

"I warn you, Seth, he cries like a girl. He'll probably gag like one the first time, too." Jarrad slapped a hand into the wall, laughing. He sobered suddenly. "You are taking him to another town, right? I don't want anyone here buying him and knowing the useless pantywaist is mine."

"This town is too piss-ant for me to even bother with. Don't worry, I'll take him to Central. There's a huge market for kids there. Come on, you little brat, on your knees," Seth said, dragging Roy off the arm of the couch and trying to force him down.

Roy fought him but he was no match for the man's strength. Thin or not, Seth was solid muscle and he wrapped one hand tight around Roy's neck. The boy couldn't breathe. He sank to his knees, gasping, clawing at the man's hand. Seth crushed Roy's face into his crotch.

"Get used to this view, brat." Seth relaxed his grip a bit so he could struggle with his zipper.

Roy twisted fast and sank his teeth into the man's thigh so hard he could taste blood. Seth screamed and belted Roy with such force his ears rang as he crashed into the couch. He didn't give in to the roiling nausea the blow caused. While Seth was busy cursing him, holding a hand to his bleeding leg, and before his father could lumber out of the kitchen, Roy took off. He slammed open the front door and raced out into the frigid night air.

X X X

"Thanks for helping out, Hohenheim," Jenna said, setting down her lantern in the gathering snow.

"I did think you might be a little crazy to come flower picking in the snow at night," he replied with a smile.

"It's good to get them when the sap is down, less traumatic to the plant, hence coming at night. I wasn't counting on the snow but they're winter plants so we'll be fine. I don't even bother putting these in the gardens since they grow so readily everywhere." She gestured at the spidery golden flowers of a huge patch of witch hazel. "I'll handle gathering the witch hazel since I know what parts I need to make my medicines. Why don't you pick the Sweetbox, Hohenheim? All I need is the flowers to make sachets."

Hohenheim followed her outstretched fingers to the dense evergreen shrub overburdened with snowy flowers. He started picking them clumsily with his thickly gloved hands. He didn't really like the cold much, or having to wear heavy winter gloves. Sweet, vanilla-like scent perfumed the air as he plucked the flowers. "Your father seems taken with that boy who keeps coming around."

"Roy? Yes, it's good to have someone for Dad to talk to when I'm busy. I'm trying to convince him to help out at the school to give Dad something to do. Dad's dallying on that but helping Roy fills the void. Besides, Roy needs someone to talk to other than that lout of a father." Jenna started cutting down some witch hazel. "He's a bright boy but that man will be sure to waste all that potential."

"You have to wonder why, don't you?" Hohenheim sighed. He had seen things like this before. Some people didn't deserve children and then he thought of Trisha who had just told him there was a little one on the way. He had to wonder what sort of father he would be. Certainly better than one who beat his child.

"Ignorance? Jealousy? Who knows. I heard Dad talking to you about taking Roy out of here."

Jenna smiled over at him. "Are you planning on training him?"

Hohenheim shook his head, his blond ponytail whipping. "No, I'll look for a teacher for him though."

"I'm surprised." Jenna stuffed some witch hazel into her bag. "I would have thought you'd like to prove yourself as a teacher."

Hohenheim put some of the snowy blossoms to his cold, numb nose and breathed in deeply. "Any other time, I would take the boy. If nothing else, Pinako could put him to work in the workshop and teach him a trade. She could use some strong hands around."

"Roy can be lazy if you let him, I warn you now. I think he does for me simply so he won't have to go home. He'd rather sit around and read, which I suppose would make him an excellent alchemist. I don't see you and Dad doing much physical work unless you have to." She grinned at him.

Hohenheim laughed. "We do tend to live in our heads, yes. But right now I have all I can handle. Trisha's pregnant." He couldn't help the enormous happy smile that cut across his stubbly face.

"Oh, Hohenheim." Jenna kicked up snow as she ran over and squeezed him hard. "That is so wonderful. When were you planning on telling me?"

"I didn't mean to keep it a secret but once your father and I got talking, it got pushed back." He embraced the herbalist back. "She just found out."

Jenna headed back for her witch hazel patch. "I'm very happy for you two. Before you head back for Rezembool, I'll make sure you have lots of good herbal teas for morning sickness and some for later to help ease labor."

"Thanks, Jenna. I'm sure Trisha will really appreciate it. I won't leave without it and I guess, I'll need to go talk to Roy and see if he even wants to come along with me. I'll have to take him to Rezembool at first, of course, until I can find someone for him. I just don't think I could leave him here, not lowing what you and your father said he faces." Hohenheim's lips thinned. "My child isn't even born yet and I can't even bear to think of anyone hurting her or him and I couldn't sit by and watch someone else doing it."

"That's because you have a good heart. We do our best to help Roy out but the boy's not wrong. Our sheriff leaves a lot to be desired and he's drinking buddies with Roy's father. He's no help," Jenna said bitterly. "The sheriff's the next thing the alderman needs to address. If Dad and I tell Roy it's for his own good, I think he'll go with you, if you don't think Trisha would mind."

"I'll call and ask. If not, maybe Pinako will put him up for a while, though she has her hands filled with her daughter-in-law who's also pregnant." Hohenheim laughed ruefully. "Two good friends pregnant at the same time, it's going to be scary."

"Poor Roy will be hiding under the porch from crazed pregnant women." Jenna smirked, snagging some more witch hazel.

"Only if he can chase me out from under there." Hohenheim dropped some flowers into his sack.

"I'll double the amount of herbs I send with you," Jenna said. "And when you're done with the flowers, Hohenheim, you can start that way. See the pond? I want to get some cress from there and you can pluck rose hips there at the edge of the woods just beyond the pond."

"Oh great, give me the ones with thorns."

"You're a big tough alchemist. You can handle it."

X X X

Roy pounded over the field, not really sure where he was going. The night was so dark and the air thick with snowflakes. He didn't have a light and more than once he had fallen over something. His only saving grace was his father and Seth couldn't go any faster than he could. The advantage was still theirs with their longer legs and the fact his head had truly begun to hurt, his vision swimming from the blow Seth had struck him. Roy knew his only recourse was to get to the Ravensdales. The alchemist would help him but what if his father went after the blind man? What if Father killed Ravensdale? Did he dare risk their friendship, Ravensdale's life? What choice did he have?

No one else would help him and he couldn't escape alone. Maybe he could get to the train station. Even if he was kicked off at the next stop, he'd still be away from this place. Either way, he needed to get across the field. Even through the sweat of exertion and fear, Roy felt the bite of the wind. He didn't have on boots, coat or gloves. He wouldn't last long unless he got to a shelter of some sort.

Roy's foot clipped the edge of the pond and he skittered for a moment before going down. His legs slipped into the icy water to the knees. He rolled back up to his sopping feet, his toes so beyond numb they no longer seemed a part of him. He tried to run but the wet socks tore his flesh, almost instantly raising blisters.

He shrieked in fear the moment the hand came down on his shoulder. Seth twirled Roy around and cocked back his fist. It slammed hard into the boy's stomach. Roy doubled up, the wind knocked out of him. He tried to run but he couldn't draw breath so he did the best he could. He tromped on Seth's foot with all his strength and forced his icy, burning legs to move.

Roy only got a few steps before his father grabbed him. Roy's head spun as he was whipped around, finding himself staring at the huge fleshy obstacle that his father presented. When Jarrad's fist hit, Roy found himself face down in the snow, spitting blood before he could think to brace himself. Roy coughed, pain overwhelming him. Blood spattered from his lips into the snow.

"Don't mar that pretty face, Jarrad. It'll affect the price," Seth warned, irritated.

"Don't bitch, at least the little jackrabbit's down." Jarrad planted a heavy foot on Roy's back, weighing him down.

Roy couldn't force his father off but he could get his hand into his pocket. He fumbled with the slick lighter hiding there and dragged it out, hoping the snow wouldn't wet the flint. With his other hand, he drew an array with the blood weeping from his busted mouth. How small could he draw an array and have it work? He knew he had no choice but to try it. He only prayed they didn't know what he was doing.

"You little bastard, that really hurt. I don't want to mess you up but you need to learn a lesson." Seth grinned at him so coldly it seemed to sear Roy even through the darkness. "First lesson is a good chase gets my blood up. The second is I'll lie to a customer about things like your virginity, and you'll learn fast to never tell them the truth. You owe me a test run and when my blood's up...you won't like this," Seth grabbed Roy's waistband.

The boy couldn't help the scream that tore out of his throat as his finger frantically flicked, drawing a pattern he knew well now.

"Ain't it a little cold out here for this?" Jarrad asked.

"I'll warm myself inside of him," Seth replied with a low chuckle, trying to jerk Roy's pants down. His cold hand reached inside, grabbing the boy roughly.

Roy cried out again, slamming his hand down on the array as he prayed for a miracle. His finger turned the lighter's flywheel and he hoped for flame.


	3. Flames

CHAPTER THREE

"Owww!"

"Get bit by another rose, Hohenheim?" The corners of Jenna's mouth crinkled.

"Damn rose hips. Are you sure these things can't wait until its daylight...and you can do it by yourself?" He shook out his injured finger then looked at his snagged glove critically.

"Where's the fun in that?" Jenna laughed, satisfied Hohenheim could handle the roses. She turned to head back to the pond. She paused, seeing they weren't alone. She pointed at the odd trio a few hundred yards away. "Hohenheim, who are those people?"

Before Hohenheim could respond, they saw the boy go down, screaming. Hohenheim dropped his sacks of flowers and rose hips, racing towards the pond. Hohenheim knew Jenna was right behind him. She didn't have the weaponry he had at his disposal but he knew she had those harvesting shears and she wouldn't hesitate to use them.

The boy screamed again before they closed the distance between him and his two attackers. Hohenheim picked up his pace, nearly spilling to his back side in the snow. He saw the flare as flames leapt towards the aggressors. Startled, Hohenheim did fall on the snowy embankment, realizing as he tumbled through snow drifts who that boy had to be. Ravensdale had underestimated what his eager little student had learned. Roy wasn't just practicing a little in secret; he had obviously mastered a very difficult transmutation. Now Hohenheim just had to make sure the boy didn't kill someone with it.

X X X

Roy didn't expect the screams as the fire caught Seth's pants alight. The orange-red tongues leapt over to his father. His attackers cries of pain and fear sparked only hate in him. He wanted to add to the fire's blossom in the night sky. Let them go to grey ash, he didn't care. The stink of frying hair burnt his eyes as he tried to concentrate and expand the transmutation.

Something cold dribbled across Roy's back just before water hit Seth and his father, bowling them off their feet. The men lay moaning in the snow. Roy followed the water's arc back to the pond and saw Hohenheim there. He had to have a portable array, Roy thought. But why had Hohenheim helped the men hurting him? That just wasn't right.

Roy bellowed, startled when someone else touched his shoulder. Flailing around, he looked up into Jenna's face. She hauled him up and his pants started sliding down his narrow hips. Roy grabbed them frantically.

"Come on, baby. We have to get out of here. Can you walk?" She pulled on his arm. "Hohenheim, are they hurt badly?"

"I don't think they're more than singed," Hohenheim said, giving the groaning men a disgusted look.

"He was gonna..." Roy gulped for air and the world started spinning, closing in on the corners of his eyes.

"Hohenheim!" Jenna cried, tightening her grip on Roy. "He's going to faint."

"Got him." Hohenheim slipped an arm under Roy's arm pit, getting a good hold on him. Roy collapsed heavily against the alchemist, barely able to stay on his feet. "Those two probably won't be down for long."

The adults forced Roy to move. They dragged him along as fast as they could go. When the panic drained out, Roy was able to get his own feet moving until he was running on his own. He couldn't think about what he had done or what could still happen to him when his wounded father and the flesh peddler caught up to him.

Jenna flung open the door to her home, hustling him inside. "Hohenheim, go to my workshop and get me a medical kit. Roy, sit by the fire place. You're like ice."

"Jenna, what's wrong?" Ravensdale called from the library, coming out to discover what the excitement was about. Hohenheim took off towards the workshop.

"I don't know, Dad. Roy's father and some stranger were beating on him," Jenna said, propelling Roy to the hearth when the boy didn't move.

"What? Is he all right?" Ravensdale walked into the room with ease, in spite of his blindness. He knew the layout of his house intimately to balance his handicap.

"I'm trying to find that out." Jenna gently probed Roy's swollen but no longer bleeding lips. "Roy, what happened? Are you badly hurt?"

He wagged his head. "Father sold me to that man." He managed to get out, still tasting copper in his mouth.

"What?" Jenna's voice snapped.

Roy looked down at his hands, which had a death grip on the torn waist band of his pants. "He was going to...he wants to give me to men who'll use me for...you know." Roy chocked, trying not to picture it.

"Oh, baby." Jenna's arms went tight around him.

"We can't leave him here, Jenna," Ravensdale said, disgust threading through his voice. "If that's true..."

"I don't doubt it is," Hohenheim said, returning. "I've heard about places like that who use children as prostitutes in bigger cities, like Central." He handed Jenna the medical kit. "Those men might still come after him, or more likely the man who tried to buy the boy will get out of town. He can't risk being caught."

"Mustang might still try to get Roy back," Ravensdale said, his voice sharp with rage. "He's not smart enough to hide and he is friends with the sheriff."

"I'll leave tonight," Hohenheim said after a moment's thought. "I'll take Roy with me."

Roy glanced at Hohenheim in surprise.

"I can't believe that anyone could even think to do this to a boy!" Jenna raged, pacing around the living room. "It's tragedy enough if some stranger takes a child and hurts him, but to sell your own son! He was just going to stand there and watch it happen!"

"Jenna!" Hohenheim broke in, his eyes flicking over to Roy who had gone whiter than snow. His slender body shook all over.

She put her hands on Roy's shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Roy. I don't mean to make you think about it again." Jenna leaned down to hug him hard. "I'm just so furious that anyone could do something like this to you." She let him go and resumed her pacing. "I almost wish I were an alchemist. To hell with 'be thou for the people'...or maybe removing men like that from the web of life is being for the people in the long run."

"Jenna, hush!" Ravensdale said.

"Don't tell me you're not thinking it, Dad."

"Yes, but I have sense enough to hold my tongue." He pointed to Roy as if sensing the boy's distress.

Jenna ran a hand through her hair. "You're right. Sorry. Dad, put on the kettle and get some tea going. Roy's frozen through and I've been neglecting tending to him," Jenna said, opening the kit. Her father complied. "This will sting, Roy." She pressed a tincture to his lips and he hissed. "Are you hurt bad anywhere else? Did he..." she broke off when Roy quivered violently, his eyes going to the fireplace. "You can tell me, Roy. It's not your fault if he did."

He shook his head. "I stopped him. Got hit in the head a few times...and in the stomach."

Jenna lifted his shirt, touching him gently as he flinched away in pain and shame. "Roy, Hohenheim and father want you to go with Hohenheim to find a teacher. They were going to talk to you about this tomorrow."

"I heard...at the keyhole," the boy replied, remembering yesterday's conversation. Roy's jet eyes flashed up at Hohenheim. "Sorry. If I stay here, I'll die, won't I?"

"It's a possibility. I swear, I won't hurt you or let anyone else do it," Hohenheim said softly, squatting down in front of Roy. "I'm going to take you to my home for a little while then we'll find someone to train you to control and use alchemy, though tonight suggests you're already well on your way."

"Tonight?" Ravensdale asked, coming back in. "The kettle is on."

"He used an array to create fire," Hohenheim said in soft measured tones but they still felt like a judgement to Roy. He couldn't see Hohenheim's face since the Alchemist had swiveled to address Ravensdale. "It was impressive."

Roy saw Ravensdale's mouth go slack then tightened hard. "Did he now? Since you're still afraid they'll come after Roy, I'll assume his father and that man weren't badly hurt."

Hohenheim shook his head, straightening up. "I'm not sure how badly they got burnt but I didn't think it was all that bad."

"I don't care," Roy mumbled, not caring how that sounded.

"Given what they were trying to do to you, I don't blame you, Roy." Jenna ran a hand over his head. "But that was a scary thing you did. I'm sure Hohenheim and Dad can help you learn to use your abilities better."

"I'll go pack so we can leave." Hohenheim squatted back down, looking Roy in the eyes. "Do you trust me?"

Roy glanced over at Ravensdale then back to Hohenheim before nodding. "Yeah."

"I'll go pour the tea and package up those herbs for you, Hohenheim. And Roy, I'll get some things to take down the swelling and treat those cuts. You know how to use the salves," Jenna said, getting to her feet. "I can't believe that man. How can anyone be so evil to sell his own son into something that repulsive? I'd like ten minutes alone with him in my workshop to show him what I think of that."

"He'd hurt you," Roy said, miserably.

"Don't underestimate my daughter, Roy. She's a very strong woman," Ravensdale sat next to Roy in front of the fire. "Jenna, please go upstairs and toss down some of my clothes. Roy's soaked through. I can smell the wet wool. Letting him catch his death won't do."

"I'll get him a change of clothing and the tea," Jenna said, leaving the room with Hohenheim in her wake.

Ravensdale touched Roy's shoulder gently. "You never told me you were practicing."

Roy sighed, afraid now of what his mentor might think of him. "I thought you'd be mad...but you knew anyhow. I heard you tell Hohenheim."

"I suspected," Ravensdale replied, his fingers patting Roy's shoulder. "I had no idea you could transmute air into fire."

"It's no big deal. It was the first thing I tried and it just sputtered and sparked a little at first. It wasn't hard to get it right though," Roy said, his legs thumping up and down with nerves. It helped him warm back up, too.

"Why did you think to start with that array, Roy?" Ravensdale's face went thoughtful and curious.

Roy shrugged then remembered his mentor couldn't see that. "It was the easiest one to understand, like it called to me, I guess. You said that I would find the things I was meant to do, that some things would be easier than others. Fire was easy, no big deal," the boy repeated.

"Actually Roy, it is a big deal. That is not an easy transmutation. I never could get it right. You're probably going to be a very talented alchemist some day." Ravensdale smiled, proudly.

"Like you?" Roy reached down, his sore back twinging, and pulled off his wet shoes. He put them closer to the fire to dry.

"And Hohenheim, yes. Trust his instincts when it comes to finding you a teacher. He's a very bright man. He'd probably train you himself if not for all the new responsibilities he's facing." Ravensdale rubbed his chin. "You're going to be all right, Roy. We'll do our best to make sure of that."

"Thanks." Roy peeled off his soaking socks and tossed them on the hearth stone with a wet plop. His feet were still a mottled blue and red. "I won't even have clothes where I'm going. I can't go back home to get them," he added as Jenna came in with some of Ravensdale's things in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. "Your book, sir! It's back in my room hidden under a loose floorboard. I lost another of your books!"

"It's all right, Roy. Don't give it another thought. I'll survive just fine without that book." Ravensdale smiled gently.

"Roy, do get out of your wet things. I'm going to go prepare those herbs and when I get back I'm going to look at your feet to be sure you're not frostbitten," Jenna said then left the room again.

"Are you sure, sir, about the book?" Roy got up and started to take down his pants. He froze, his eyes cutting over to Ravensdale. He knew the alchemist couldn't see him, had never given any signs that he would ever hurt him but after tonight, Roy didn't know if he'd ever truly trust a man's motives.

Ravensdale, if he noticed Roy's hesitation, said nothing about it. "I'm sure about the book."

Roy gave in and quickly took off his wet clothing and used the thick towel Jenna had brought to dry off. He just as quickly pulled on Ravensdale's lent clothing. They were way too big but they were warm and dry. He sat back on the hearth, still shivering. "How can I pay for a teacher? I don't even have money to buy new clothes when I get where I'm going."

"I have plenty enough money to share. Don't you worry about it," Ravensdale said.

Roy sucked in a deep breath, unprepared for that. "I can't take your money, sir."

"You can and will. I know growing up with your father didn't equip you to trust people, Roy but you're my friend, aren't you?" Ravensdale touched Roy's face. "Like a son I didn't get to have." Roy's lips quivered. "I will help you get away from here and to get what you need. That's the only repayment I want."

"I'll repay you anyhow, someday," Roy promised, solemnly. "Maybe I'll become a State Alchemist. Then I'll have money and I can pay you back."

Ravensdale wagged his head. "I wish you wouldn't, Roy. I'm not one who uses blanket terms for soldiers, calling them 'dogs,' but there are better ways. I know to a lot of young people the military seems like a good way and, for all too many of you, it's the only route out of poverty. I'm all for that. Poverty is the mother of crime, after all and I would not have that life for you. And the military is a necessity because our world is not perfect and we need the protection. It's the corruption within it I fear. Roy, you're just a boy. You don't have to make those kinds of decisions now. Hopefully as you train, you'll see other routes."

Roy's eyes shut and he said nothing for a moment. He took a deep swallow of the tea Jenna gave him, leaving his cold hands cupped around the mug for warmth.

"Roy, what did you use to make the spark for your transmutation?" Ravensdale's asked after several moments of silence.

"My father's lighter." Roy couldn't help the proud tone of voice. "How did Hohenheim work his alchemy? He didn't have time to draw an array."

"I suspect he must carry it with him, perhaps on apiece of jewelry," Ravensdale replied, confirming Roy's suspicions. "Usually alchemy doesn't require speed, just a lot of good research and hard work but in the times when it does, for those who find themselves needing it to protect others or use it in battle, inscribed talismans work."

"I'll remember that."

"You'll have a whole lot of new things to remember soon enough, Roy." Ravensdale gave Roy's shoulder another pat and the boy shuddered, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

"I can't...how can I leave here tonight? Now? What if they come here looking for me, sir? What if they find you? They know Jenna helped me escape. How can I go if I know they might hurt you because of me?" Roy asked, miserably.

"Don't you worry about that, Roy," Jenna said, coming back into the room, carrying several bags. She set them down and went over to sit at Roy's feet. She picked one up and started inspecting his toes critically. "Dad and I can handle ourselves."

"But my dad is mean and that Seth person is simply evil. They could hurt you," Roy grumbled, knowing he couldn't let them get hurt because of him.

"They would have more reason to hurt me if you were still here, Roy and I wasn't letting them get to you. Once you're gone to places I don't know about, I'm of no use to them if they should be so stupid as to come here," Jenna said, pushing on the tips of his toes, watching the color changes with a sharp eye.

"You don't know that," Roy argued.

"No, but I know this." She put his foot down and took out a pistol from the pocket in her voluminous work coat. "I'm a damn good shot."

"Oh," Roy said in a small voice and she pocketed the weapon.

"Let's see that other foot, Roy. I think you'll be fine. They feel like ice but I don't think you've been frostbitten," Jenna said, grabbing his other foot before he could protest.

"I'm ready," Hohenheim said as he came back into the living room.

"Give Roy a few moments to warm up and we'll all go to the train station," Jenna said. She gently gave Roy a hug. "You call us when you get where you're going and you write, you hear me? Or I'll have Hohenheim bring me to you and you can tell me in person why you didn't write me." She kissed his cheek.

"I'll write," Roy promised, relaxing against her, afraid that this would be the last time anyone would care this much about him. He wasn't ready to let that go so easily.

X X X

Roy huddled up on the train seat, watching his home fade off into the darkness. He'd never been on a train before and the rocking made him queasy and they had only been going for a few moments. He hoped he'd get used to it.

"I know you're scared," Hohenheim said, softly.

"I'd be more scared if I hadn't heard you and Mr. Ravensdale talking about this before everything went bad," Roy replied, honestly, his eyes cutting over to Roy.

"You'll like Rezembool, it's all green country side. The scariest thing there is Pinako Rockbell." Hohenheim grinned.

"Another alchemist?"

"Automail expert, my next door neighbor. Doctor Rockbell and her son are good people, don't worry. You just have to watch out for Pinako. She might be small but she's a little scary. If you help out around the place, everything will be beer and skittles, if not, watch out," Hohenheim warned, his grin widening.

Roy flashed a fragile smile. "Sounds like Jenna."

"Jenna and Pinako would get on just fine," Hohenheim agreed. "I don't know how long you'll be staying with us but I just bought a house. Trisha and I have plenty of room. I'll tell you about her on the way there, later. You look exhausted. You should try to get some sleep."

Roy shook his head. "If I close my eyes, I'll see Father or that man here on the train...I can't." The tip of his tongue flicked out, wetting his lips. "That man tried to...he wanted to..." Roy's voice broke and a sob tore out of him. "What he tried to do to me!"

The fear and pain finally caught up with Roy. He clamped a hand over his mouth as a cry tried to escape. Tears spilled down his face, wending along his fingers. He shook so hard he didn't know how he stayed in his seat. Other passengers were looking at him but he didn't care. Roy laid on the seat, pressing his face against the worn fabric, his breathing coming in torn gasps. The tears just wouldn't stop. He couldn't control himself. That man had tried to rape him. His father had sold him to someone who would have taken Roy someplace where he would have been raped every day until there was nothing left of him.

The pain was like nothing he had ever known or wanted to know. His shoulders heaved with the strength of his sobs. He felt sick. Any second, everything might just rush out of him. He jerked as hands touched him. Roy flailed wildly but Hohenheim caught his arms and simply tucked them under the blanket he had taken down from an overhead compartment.

Hohenheim sat on the edge of the seat and put his hand on Roy's head. "Shhh, you're safe now, Roy. Those men will never hurt you again, I promise you that. You just rest." Hohenheim pulled his hand back. "You sleep. I'll keep watch, okay?"

Roy simply nodded, too grateful for words. The boy tucked his head against the thin, scratchy blanket and cried himself out. Finally, the train's rocking sent him into a deep dreamless sleep.

TBC


	4. Epilogue

Epilogue

"I'm glad you could come," Roy said, putting thin bread sticks, rich with rosemary and black pepper, on the table. He had rolled the bread sticks himself, long, and delicate. Finally, he was getting to eat food with taste. Cinzia, his teacher, loved cooking and if he neglected their guests, there would be hell to pay. Cinzia wasn't anywhere near as scary as his father but she could be frightening in other ways, a lot like Pinako had been. Hohenheim hadn't lied about that but it was a good scary. He wasn't really afraid of Cinzia. It was more of a respect thing so he had no qualms about helping his teacher where she needed him to.

"How could we not?" Jenna guided her father through the unfamiliar dining room so he could sit down. "You look good, Roy."

"I am good, thanks to all of you." His smile grew to encompass not only the Ravensdales but the Elrics as well. Hohenheim helped Trisha into her chair, her belly getting big now. Roy figured the next time he saw her, he'd be the one making the trip with Cinzia to see the new born baby. Hohenheim was sure it was a girl. Trisha said it kicked like a boy. Roy had been unprepared for seeing a woman's clothing wiggling all over the place when the baby woke up inside her and started moving around. Boy or girl, either way, it would be a luckier child than he had been. "Have some bread sticks. Cinzia thinks they're good for keeping my hands busy...she seems to think I don't work hard enough."

"I wonder where she got that impression." Jenna rolled her eyes at Cinzia who watched her new student handling the guests and judging his decorum. Roy always knew when he was under the gaze of the older woman, her sharp hazel eyes catching every detail.

"He's like a little tom cat, rousing himself whenever he feels like doing something or there's food to be had, but if it's something he doesn't want to do, there's a lot of yowling to be heard." Cinzia smiled at her charge.

"I do it though," Roy protested, pouting as he went to get the soup tureen.

"Yes, when you're not eyeing up my daughters, who are too old for you," Cinzia said, swatting him lightly as he passed by her into the kitchen. Roy hurried past just a bit. He knew she wouldn't hurt him but as he knew from sparring with the tall woman, she was strong and could hurt him if she wanted to. Still, he wasn't afraid, having learned to trust the heart within.

"You do have beautiful daughters," Hohenheim said in Roy's defense. Cinzia just cocked an eyebrow at him.

"How's he doing otherwise, Cinzia?" Ravensdale asked.

"He's a good student," she said as Roy came back with the heavy tureen. He started spooning out the rich wine, chicken stock and heavy cream soup that had been loaded with well over a half dozen bulbs of garlic, a few potatoes and spiced with rosemary and a hint of onion. It had taken him half the morning to crush all the cloves.

"Thanks. Soup first, then I'll get the rest of lunch," Roy said, putting a bowl in front of Ravensdale.

"This alone isn't lunch?" Jenna laughed, waving a hand at the rich soup. "Cinzia, you'll make him fat."

"I don't think she's in any danger of that," Trisha said, shaking her head. "Poor Roy still can't be seen from sideways on...which is more than I can say for me." She gave her big belly a rueful pat.

"I think you look beautiful." Hohenheim leaned in for a kiss.

Once they waded through the soup, which Cinzia had brought out some thick, crusty garlic bread for sopping up broth, Roy went back for the main course; lightly battered chicken in a lemon wine sauce that revisited all the onions, garlic and rosemary from the soup. Finally, chicken that wasn't gray and tasteless. As everyone made with the small talk, Roy helped himself to seconds.

As Roy was cleaning up the dishes, Hohenheim came in, leaning against the ice chest. A smirk played around the corners of his mouth.

"What?" Roy asked.

"Was I wrong about Cinzia not being all that scary?" Hohenheim took off his glasses and polished them.

Roy remembered the day Hohenheim had brought him to meet his new teacher. Roy had been scared to death of her. She was so tall and intimidating looking. "She's great. I'm really learning a lot here."

"And not just about alchemy, I'd wager," Hohenheim said gently.

Roy turned back to the dishes, thinking on that. "No, I'm learning not everyone is like my father."

"And one day you'll learn to use the strength you built enduring a man like that." Hohenheim's eyes turned serious. "Making you strong might have been the only thing of worth you'll ever take from that man at far too high a price."

Roy just bobbed his head, his eyes misting for a moment as he tried not to think about it. "At least I got away and not everyone is like him. I mean, I know you won't be like him."

Hohenheim's face took on an indescribable cast. "I certainly hope not. I guess we'll find out what kind of father I am soon enough, my young friend." He ruffled Roy's hair. "And we do expect you to show up sometime after the baby comes."

"With gifts, I promise." Roy smiled. "The noisier the better."

"That's Pinako's plan as well, I'm sure. I aim to find baby Winry all the loudest things I can." Hohenheim laughed.

"Your wife and Mrs Rockbell will likely shoot us all," Roy replied, with a grin.

"No doubt. I'd better go check on Trisha. She hates when I fuss but I can't help it." Hohenheim flashed a goofy grin and headed into the other room.

Roy finished the dishes, watching Cinzia, Jenna and Trisha, with Hohenheim right beside her just in case, out in the freshly planted spring garden. He heard a tapping behind him. He turned to see Ravensdale and his cane. "Is there anything I can get for you, sir?"

"How about another cup of that delicious coffee? Jenna never lets me drink it, says it makes me too jumpy." He smiled, the scar lines across his eyes crinkling. "And then come sit with me in the living room and tell me everything you've been up to Roy. Including chasing Cinzia's daughters."

Roy blushed furiously. He hadn't been chasing the eighteen year old twins, as if they had time for a boy like him, but he couldn't help, but to notice them when they bounced by all tight buttocks, big boobs and mounds of curly dark hair. He'd chase them if he thought he could catch them. "I'm not!"

"Of course not." The alchemist laughed. "Extra sugar in that coffee if you please, Roy."

The young man fixed up two coffees and they retired back to the living room. Roy glanced over at the man he wished he could have been so lucky as to have as a father. "Sir, I know you said Father never bothered you after that night. Is that really true?" Roy refused to believe it.

Ravensdale eased himself into a chair. "He came by once but when I told him the Alderman wanted to speak to him about what he had done to you, he took off, not just from my house but from Satie in general. I don't know where he is now."

Roy sucked on his bottom lip for a moment. "That makes me nervous but I'm not afraid of him, not any more."

"I'm glad to hear that, son."

"Sir, I never got the chance to really thank you for helping me...for doing all of this for me." Roy shyly looked at his feet, not trusting his emotions.

"Of course you have. You've written letters," Ravensdale replied.

"But I never get down exactly what I mean, how much it means..." Roy stumbled over the words.

Ravensdale put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I already know that, Roy. You don't have to say it. And you do thank me, by doing well here, by fulfilling your potential. Knowing I've helped, is more than enough for me." Ravensdale pulled Roy against him one handedly for a quick, fatherly embrace then patted his back. "Now, tell me everything you've been up to. Don't leave out any details."

Roy was happy to comply.


End file.
